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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25939798">Caught In The Rain</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82'>ranguvar82</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Silence and Strength [45]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Rain, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:13:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>966</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25939798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley is sunning himself on his favorite rock in his snake form when he feels the first drop of rain on his snout.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Silence and Strength [45]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630903</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Caught In The Rain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caught in the Rain</p><p> </p><p>Crowley is curled up on his favorite rock in his snake form when he feels the splash of ice cold water on his snout. He buries his face in his coils, pulling himself tighter.</p><p> </p><p>Another drop falls, this one even harder and colder than the one before it, and before Crowley has to chance to react, there is a titanic crash of thunder and the sky opens up. Rain pelts down on him like bullets, each icy drop a torment on his already cold scales. He doesn’t so much as slither as fall off his rock, eyes wide with terror as he frantically searches about for shelter.</p><p> </p><p>The rain is coming down in sheets now, the wind lashing it sideways and battering Crowley like a, well, battering ram. He can barely see through the downpour, and he flicks his tongue out in desperation, trying to find the scent of their cottage. It can’t be far. He’s in the garden. He knows every inch of it. So why is his sense of direction so out of whack?</p><p> </p><p>He’s cold. He’s so incredibly cold. He had been so warm moments ago, happily hissing as he snake-napped. Now he shivers, cannot stop himself from shivering. The cold is seeping into his very core, into the empty part of him that had been Ripped Out so long ago. He can feel it, the ice cold burn that went deeper than any pain.</p><p> </p><p>His brain is in a fog, and no matter how he tries, how much he concentrates, he cannot take human form. He blinks. He’s so tired. So cold, and so tired. Maybe if he just rested a bit, things would be okay.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a splashing sound, coming closer. A voice. No, two voices. Young. Female.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy shit, it’s Tony!” Denise. That was Denise. She kneels next to him, and he can almost feel her hand on his scales. “Christ, he’s freezing. Dahlia, give me a hand.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, of course.” The other voice. Dahlia. Crowley isn’t sure how they’re going to pick him up. He’s easily twenty feet long.</p><p> </p><p>But they don’t pick him up. Instead they lay something over him. Something long, and soft, and warm. The whatever it is doesn’t cover all of him, but it’s enough for him to blearily lift his head and stare dull eyed at the two girls. Dahlia gently rubs his scales. Denise whispers something, and Dahlia nods. Denise sets off running across the field.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll be okay. Denise’s going to get the wagon so we can haul you back home. Rain must have turned you around. We were out looking for a lamb when Denise spotted you. Lucky for you we had extra towels. Can you change back?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley shakes his head. Dahlia strokes his back. “That’s alright. Bet you’re just scared.” A snakey nod.</p><p> </p><p>There’s another sound, wheels dragging in wet grass. Denise has returned with the wagon. “Okay, we gotta figure out how to get him on there. No way we can pick him up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tony?” Dahlia’s voice is soft. “We’re gonna get you on the wagon, but you need to help us. Think you can haul yourself up while we hold you steady? Both Deni and I are stronger than we look.”</p><p> </p><p>It takes nearly ten minutes, the girls slipping and sliding in the wet grass and Crowley’s scales numb from cold, but eventually he’s coiled up on the wood floor of the wagon, a substantial amount of towels over him. He’s going into torpor, his heartbeat slowing. He scents the air. He can smell lamb. Hissing, he pokes his head forward.</p><p> </p><p>The lamb is curled up next to Dahlia. She shakes her head at him, stern. Contrite, he sinks back down.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley isn’t sure how long he’s in the wagon for. They stop at Denise’s to drop off the lamb, then Denise clucks her tongue and the horse sets off for Crowley and Aziraphale’s cottage. It’s still pouring, but not as fierce.</p><p> </p><p>Relief floods him as the horse pulls into a familiar drive. He sticks his head out of his blanket of towels and now he can see the wisteria he planted below the front windows, their leaves battered by the rain.</p><p> </p><p>The front door flies open and Aziraphale comes tearing across the yard. “Oh, thank Someone, you found him, I’ve been looking all over the garden, and the house, I’ve been frantic!” He comes over to the back of the wagon and even through the rain Crowley can see the immense relief in his face. “Starmaker, you scared me!” Aziraphale turns to the girls. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I was just about to go airborne and see if I could spot him like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s no trouble, really. Do you need help getting him inside?” Dahlia asks.</p><p> </p><p>“No. Angelic strength, you know.” Aziraphale lifts Crowley as if he weighs nothing, draping him across his shoulders with no sign of effort. “You two best be getting home.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale closes the front door and miracles away the rain that had come in, leaving the interior dry and warm. Another snap of his fingers, and the fireplace roars to life. He sits in front of the fire, letting the warmth of it soak into Crowley’s scales. He lifts his head and nuzzles Aziraphale.</p><p> </p><p>Warmth seeps back into Crowley and he slides down into Aziraphale’s lap, his scales changing to skin. By the time he’s fully seated, his human form is back. Crowley presses himself close to his angel.</p><p> </p><p>“What happened, my silent one?” Aziraphale asks, hand roaming up and down Crowley’s spine.</p><p> </p><p>‘Got caught in rain. Cold, and scared. Got lost.’ Crowley Signs, red with shame.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, sweetness...” Aziraphale kisses the side of his head. “You’re safe now.”</p><p> </p><p>‘Always safe with my angel.’</p>
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